Symphony
by Divinia Serit
Summary: Their love was never meant to be." Written for the Jello-Forever February Challenge. Prompt- love songs COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**I told myself I wouldn't do this. I was going to be good, and only write a oneshot or two for this challenge, because I definitely have three other multi-part stories going on. My head is going to explode! But driving home from school last night, the radio was mocking me. Love song after love song played- some happy, some sad- and this story came to mind. What can I say? I'm a slave to the plot bunnies. I hope y'all enjoy it! Hopefully I'll finish before the month's over! Smoke will be updated next, and I have another new story written for the winner of my Help Haiti fic auction that should be posted in a few days!**

Title: Symphony  
Author: Divinia Serit  
Rating: T  
Spoilers: Possible spoilers for Seasons 1 & 2  
Disclaimer: I don't own them! I just like to play with them!  
Summary: Written for the JelloForever February Challenge. Prompt- Love Songs. A look at a love that was never meant to be.

**A/N: IMPORTANT. This will be a relatively short six chapter story alternating from Jane's and Lisbon's point of view. Jane's side is told in reverse chronological order-starting from the end of their relationship, while Lisbon's side is told in chronological order starting mid-Season 2. **

**Chapter One**

_"How was I supposed to know she was slowly letting go?  
__I was putting her through hell. Hell, I couldn't tell.  
__She could have given me a sign, and opened up my eyes.  
__How was I supposed to see? She never cried in front of me."  
_-Toby Keith, 'She Never Cried In Front of Me'

She was gone.

Two red lights disappeared in the distance leaving Patrick Jane standing in the dark. Alone. Always alone. The dust had barely settled, and as much as he tried to crane his neck to see around the bend, her car was out of sight. Slowly, he sank to his knees, and let a handful of dirt fall from his fingers. The particles sparkled in a thin beam of moonlight that trickled through the trees. The silence was deafening, and he was alone with his thoughts. He stared down the empty road once more. She never even slowed down. No second guesses. No regrets. How did it come to this?

She had only taken the necessities. Told him he could keep the rest. She didn't want it- didn't care what he did with it. The lone tear streaking down the side of her face killed him. Teresa Lisbon never cried. Standing in the foyer, he could almost pretend she was still here. A few sweatshirts littered the furniture, and photographs covered the walls. The faint smell of her perfume lingered throughout the house. Lingered on their bed- his bed. Her ring sparkled on the dresser. Then it hit him. She was gone for good, and he was once again trapped in a house that was frozen in time with memories he couldn't bear to part with..

They never had a fairy tale romance. They argued, made up, and built a relationship based on respect and mutual loss. They rarely saw eye to eye, but they agreed to disagree. The attraction was always there, and maybe that was the problem. No matter how intense the fight was, they couldn't stay away from each other. It was an addiction. Their relationship may not have been a carefree love song, but he never dreamed things were this bad. For someone who made a living being observant, how had he missed the fact that his marriage was falling apart?

He was too lost in Red John. His obsession with the serial killer consumed his every thought, and it wasn't fair to a woman like Teresa Lisbon. She didn't deserve to play second fiddle to a notorious murderer. Lately, the killer had gone on another rampage taunting Jane with more needless death. He lost himself in the blackness. To catch a serial killer, you had to think like one, and he hated the man he had become. He never paid attention to the fact she was slowly withdrawing- tired of broken promises, fake smiles, and false pretenses. He never noticed, and he'd never forgive himself.

She tried. God knows, she had tried. But her sense of duty and morality was too far ingrained in her character. It was who she was. It was why he loved her. She kept him true to himself, until he began to shut her out. He could never ask her to compromise her beliefs for the unattainable quest that was his personal revenge. They split the blame. He shouldered the guilt. They just weren't meant to be. It wasn't for lack of trying. There was just _too_ much against them.

He numbly sat on the edge of the couch, her college sweatshirt in hand, and tried to ignore the events of the past few hours. Although, he wished she'd come to her senses and return, he feared they were too far gone this time. He _knew_ they were too far gone. Lifting the soft fabric, he breathed in her intoxicating scent. There was no point in lying to himself. There was no quick fix, and she wouldn't return. It wasn't a love song. There was no happy ending. It was over, and he wasn't sure he would recover this time. What was the point? The sweatshirt fell to the floor.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Season 2 Spoilers (Red Badge)YAY! Update! Remember, this is from Lisbon's point of view starting at the beginning of their relationship. I think it's going to have a nice effect once it's completed! Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! I'm so glad y'all are enjoying it! Thanks to: TROMANA, ILOVEPLOTBUNNIES, WEBUILTTHEPYRAMIDS, CAT, WILD DAISIES, YABA, JADESTAR, HOUSEMDFANFOREVER, SIMONISTHECUTTESTMENTALIST, and MACISGATE. This is a beautiful song, by the way. I'm in love with it!**

**Chapter 2**

_"Hold me close, now until forever._

_I'll be unafraid. Hold me close;_

_Give me back my reason to believe._

_Come and save me."_

-Gloriana, Come and Save Me

Teresa Lisbon had never really thought of herself as a damsel-in-distress. In all reality, she abhorred the idea. What intelligent woman would want to wait around waiting for some stranger to rescue her? The whole idea was implausible when she could save herself the trouble and make do on her own. Besides, prince charming would probably get lost and would be too stubborn to ask for directions. Long ago, she had learned that to get anything done, she would have to do it herself. There were no fairy tales, no princesses and princes, and no fairy godmothers. It was just they way things were.

She slowly realized her perceptions were beginning to change as she stood behind Roy Carmen, clicking the silver metal around his wrists. Now that the whole fiasco was over, she felt like she was drowning in the aftermath, and there was no one around to save her. But since when did that matter? She had always saved herself. A cold chill swept through her living room, and she felt very exposed in the old jersey that just barely covered her rear. Ordering Jane to watch the murderer, she quickly grabbed a pair of jeans that were lying on the corner armchair and shimmied into them. Jane had the decency to look away.

Hoping her eyes were no longer red, she quickly phoned Cho and relayed the news. By the time the knock sounded at the door, she hoped she was presentable enough to address the other agents. Escorting the doctor outside, she ignored the leering looks of the other agents, and quickly transferred the killer into Cho's custody. The Asian man nodded at her, and with a slight inclination of his head, inquired if she was alright. She gave him a reassuring smile, made sure everything was settled, and returned to her house. Locking the door behind her, she closed her eyes and leaned against the door. It was over.

She felt tears prick at her eyes, and she allowed herself a moment to complain about how unfair it all was. She had more than likely lost the respect and trust of her colleagues after her little stunt, and she was lucky she hadn't lost her job. Would it always be like this? How much longer would she have to keep giving up parts of herself in order to do her job. She was tired of being the selfless one, the calm, collected boss. Sometimes, she just wanted to be reassured Was that too much to ask?

"You okay?"

She jumped when Jane lightly touched her shoulder. She had honestly forgotten he was there. Feeling slightly embarrassed now that the charade was over, she looked down at her toes. They were painted an electric blue. A small token of defiance against the masculine dress code. No matter what she had to wear, something about painting her toe nails some obscene color was oddly satisfying.

"Yeah," she muttered back.

Moving towards the kitchen, she was surprised when his hand gently encircled her wrist, pulling her back towards him. Any other time, she would have given him a piece of her mind for stopping her, but tonight she just didn't have the energy. He seemed a little surprised at her sudden willingness to listen, and she fought the urge to smile. Instead, she tilted her head to the side and slowly blinked.

"I… uh," he stuttered, unsure of how to bring up the moment they shared earlier.

"Sound it out," she teased lightly, relying on playful banter.

She assumed he'd keep the conversation light. This was Jane after all. He'd probably just suggest she start a career in acting, fix a kettle of tea, and slip out the door. She was not, however, expecting what he did next. Without warning, he gently tugged her to him, and wrapped his arms around her. Her head softly rested against his chest, and his chin gently rested on top of her head. She could feel his warm breath against her skin, and she was surprised at the intensity of his heart beat. What did he have to be worried about? Feeling a little uncomfortable in his grasp, she pulled back and lifted her head. She expected him to make light of the situation and offer a teasing remark, but he continued to watch her silently, studying her with an unfamiliar glint in his eye.

"Jane?"

"I shouldn't have asked you to do that," he said softly, a hint of guilt creeping into his expression.

"I asked you to help me catch the son of a bitch," she replied tartly. She just wanted to put this whole awful experience behind her and move on. Sure. It was a little close to home, but it was worth it in the long run.

"You're an amazing woman, Teresa Lisbon." The statement was so soft, she almost missed it.

"Ummm, thanks?" she responded, her eyebrows nearly touching her hairline.

She was beginning to think she wasn't the only one drugged. Jane's behavior was a little unnerving, but she didn't want to step out of his grasp just yet. She felt strangely safe in the consultant's arms. His thumb lightly traced a random figure on her hip, as she surprised them both, and rested her head on his chest once more. She forced herself to relax, and she marveled at the contended feeling that washed over her. She pushed away all the pain and hurt of distrust and betrayal, and slowly wrapped her arms around him as well.

Maybe it was a long shot. The odds were stacked against them, but she had a feeling she'd regret it if she pushed him away and didn't try. As she felt his lips gently press against her hair, her lips curved into a soft smile. This was new. It was a nice feeling, she marveled. She wasn't afraid. The sudden mental image of Jane charging in on a white horse almost made her laugh. That would definitely end in disaster. She'd have to rescue him most likely. Maybe there was something to those fairy tales after all. Maybe this is what it was like to be saved.


	3. Chapter 3

**Whew! Three chapters left and two weeks to go…. Heh! Clearly, I decided writing was a better choice than studying for my test tomorrow. Hmmmm, a sense a pattern! Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy this chapter! Thank you so much for all your reviews and support! I typed this while watching the Olympics, so hopefully there's not too many errors! Enjoy!**

**Thanks to: TROMANA, YABA, SIMONISTHECUTTESTMENTALIST, ILOVEPLOTBUNNIES, FAMOUS4IT, MWALTER, FROGSTER, JADESTAR, and CH19777. Thank you all so much! Halfway done! *dances***

Chapter Three

_"You seem so far away, yet you are standing near.  
You made me feel alive, but something died I fear.  
I really tried to make it out. I wish I understood.  
Whatever happened to our love, it used to be so good.  
So when you're near me darling, can't you feel me S.O.S?"_

_-ABBA, SOS_

Pulling into the apartment parking lot, Patrick Jane frowned when he noticed the faint glow coming from the kitchen window. The light spilled over into the small carefully manicured grassy patch, and seemed to be the only light in a sky of darkness. His brow furrowed when he glanced down at his watch. It was almost midnight. The green numbers eerily reflected off the slightly fogged glass, and he slowly rubbed his forehead. She was normally asleep by now.

He was reclining on the couch, earlier that day, when the message came in. Eyeing his cell phone, he quickly silenced the musical tones and looked up towards Lisbon's empty office. They had been married for almost a year, but she decided to keep her maiden name for professional reasons. Not that he minded. She would always be 'his Lisbon' and the moniker carried a sense of intimacy that he wouldn't trade for anything. Their working relationship barely changed. He still pushed the boundaries and she was the only one who could control him.

She was in a staff meeting which made it relatively easy for him to slip out. He left a note on a post it and stuck it on her computer monitor, and hoped she wouldn't be too mad at him later. On the way out of headquarters, he darted back into her office and left a small chocolate bar with almonds on her desk as a peace offering. Avoiding the eyes of the other agents, he silently left and headed to his car. Pulling on to the road, he tried to push down the slight guilty feeling that was beginning to creep over him.

It had been a wild goose chase that lasted much longer than he had imagined. Once more, Red John was only toying with him. The false leads and misleading clues were beginning to pile up, and he could feel his levels of frustration rise. It wasn't fair. There was no way the serial killer could be this perfect. After all, the murderer was only human, and everyone made mistakes. What he couldn't figure out was, why today? Red John was normally very careful about playing with Jane and there was always a method to his madness.

Climbing out of the car, his first thought was for his wife's safety. Fumbling in his pocket for the keys, his pace increased and hurried to the door. Wiping his clammy palms on his pants, he unlocked the door and quietly stepped into the foyer. His eyes jerked around the room, but nothing seemed out of pace. There was no sign of a struggle, and no strange noises to indicate a problem. His heart pounded in his chest as he made his way to the kitchen. Entering the room, he was stunned into further silence.

She was clad in a tasteful black dress that hung off her shoulders and exposed her toned back. Her hair was twisted up, and he could see the diamond earrings he had given her for a wedding present glittering in her ears. The only thing marring the perfection of her appearance were the smudges of mascara lining her red eyes. The table was set with their best china, and an uncorked bottle of wine sat in the center of the spread. The two candles had long since burned out, their black wicks standing out against the pristine place setting.

She raised her eyes and stared him down, the disappointment heavy in her gaze. His mouth opened, an apology on the tip of his tongue as the significance of Teresa's dress and meal hit him square in the gut. She turned her head away, and the words died in his throat. He took a step towards her, but she refused to look at him. Lost in thought, he almost missed her soft words.

"I don't ask for much," she started. Her voice was strong and clear. "When I married you, I knew your priorities were split and I'd have to share you with a serial killer. I thought I could handle it."

"Teresa-" he took another step towards her, and she shook her head.

"I just wanted a few days, a few times where I was more important than Red John. Was that too much to ask?" Her voice wavered slightly and she stood up, forcefully knocking over her chair.

"Happy Anniversary," she added, almost as an afterthought, as she calmly walked out of the room.

Sliding into the chair, he propped his elbows on the table and stared at the cold meal staring up at him. He wasn't sure what to do this time. He wasn't sure how to fix it. Looking back, he realized she was starting to slip away, and if he didn't change, he might lose her for good. Standing, he followed her towards their bedroom. She was his anchor, his support. She must know that. He had to make her understand that he needed her. Closing the door behind him, he gathered her in his arms and pulled her close when she tried to resist. After a moment, she relaxed into his embrace and tucked her head under his chin.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"I'm sorry."


	4. Chapter 4

Blah! I am in a rut! But, parents are gone for the weekend, so I have the house to myself! *dances* I'm really hoping I'll get a lot written this weekend! YAY for that. Here's another relatively angst chapter. This one and the previous chapter, are relatively interchangeable in the timeline, but you'll see significant differences in the last two chapters. I'll probably be updating my auction!fic Endless Nights next. Although it seems like Lisbon/Bosco, I promise it'll be Lisbon/Jane in the end! Just trust me! Anyways, I absolutely love Martina McBride. Enjoy!

Thanks to: YABA, MWALTER, TROMANA, LISBON69, ILOVEPLOTBUNNIES, SIMONISTHECUTTESTMENTALIST, AMURDEROFCROWS, CH19777, EBONY, and PHOENIXMAGIC1 for reviewing chapter 3! Thanks for making my inbox happy!

Chapter Four

_"You think I'm always making something out of nothing.  
You're saying everything's okay.  
You've always got an answer before I ask the question.  
Yeah, whatever you say."  
-Martina McBride, Whatever You Say_

Folding her arms tightly across her body, Teresa Lisbon-Jane held back the sharp words that threatened to explode from her mouth. Turning away from the three approaching figures, she quickly exited the scene and headed for the small café she had passed on the way here. The local officers scattered out of her way, obviously noting the seething expression on the beautiful brunette. Of course, the glinting gold on her left hand also served as a warning- not that they'd try anything. The suspect had already been carted away in a squad car, and the other officers watched as the senior agent waited furiously for the rest of her agents to arrive.

She pushed open the glass door, ignoring the looks from the other patrons as a small bell tinkled upon her entrance. She wasn't worried about the others. She had the keys, and there was no other mode of transportation available. She had a feeling her warning glare would keep the locals from offering her boys a ride. They would be on their own until she cooled off, although she doubted they would even take the time to think about their actions. Sweeping up to the counter, she tried to lighten her gaze in hopes to pacify the uneasy cashier who seemed slightly unnerved at the presence of the fuming agent.

Her order appeared in record time, and she dropped a hefty tip in the small glass jar before sliding into a small armchair tucked into a corner of the coffee shop. It was a cute little place, and she probably would have enjoyed the pleasant atmosphere if it wasn't for the previous events of the day. She inhaled the sweetness of her drink, and closed her eyes. Forcing herself to deepen her breathing, she could feel her muscles slowly start to loosen and the pounding in her skull lessen. Okay, so her husband had been right about the breathing exercises. When she actually put them to use, she found the tension melt away. She wrinkled her nose at the thought of the man in question and took a careful sip of the hot beverage.

She would be lying if she admitted that she had thought his behavior would change after they were married. Although he had not offered any words to the contrary, she naively thought he'd think things through before jumping headfirst into an unknown situation. He had to realize that's what she wanted. She was wrong. And because she loved the fool, she turned her head, gritted her teeth, and played along. She could see the remorse on his face after every stunt he pulled, and she supposed she should be pleased with the fact their marriage hadn't changed their working relationship at all.

But it was slowly eating away at her. She was tired of holding her tongue. Tired of her pleas falling on deaf ears. She marveled at the man's ability to apologize by rarely saying he was sorry, and instead honed in on the fact that he never offered to change. It was a vicious cycle, and she was growing more weary each passing day. She had promised herself she would accept him for who he was- all his flaws included. To be honest, she found it slightly amusing that the fact her husband was hell-bent on murdering a serial killer didn't bother her as much as his inability to tell the truth- to really listen to what she had to say.

The sound of a tinkling bell broke her reverie and she glanced towards the front door. Of course he would know exactly where to find her. Taking another gulp of her lukewarm drink, she waited for him to come to her. His stormy eyes instantly locked on her own, and he effortlessly moved through the other tables before coming to a stop in front of her chair. His fingers absentmindedly played with his wedding band, twisting it around his finger as he watched her intently. She quirked an eyebrow up, and set her cup down. She was tired of talking. It was his turn.

"No one was hurt," he said softly. Her eyes flashed once, and she fought to keep her fury in check.

"They didn't have to be. Your actions put my team in danger, and I can't accept that kind of a risk."

"Calm down, Teresa. You're making a big deal out of nothing." His voice was soothing, and she was annoyed at his attempt to placate her.

"You have to stop this behavior, or we're going to have to make some changes," she said without dropping her gaze.

"I didn't know it would upset you this much," he said by way of apology. Grabbing her empty cup, he waited for her to stand. Placing his hand on the small of her back, he escorted her towards the door.

"Next time, come to me first," she added as they exited the café.

He just smiled, and she knew the serious undertones of their conversation had been dismissed like always. She felt a hint of annoyance creep back at his nonchalant expression. Didn't he know how much it bothered her. Did he even care? She slid into the driver's seat, and unlocked the doors for the other members of her team that had been waiting patiently outside. Her eyes flickered to her husband's pleasant expression, and she sighed. She didn't know how many more _next times_ she could give him.


	5. Chapter 5

**WOW! Another update! Can y'all believe it? I've been an updating MONSTER the past few days! Heeeeee! This one made me giggle, so I hope y'all enjoy it as well! Only one more chapter to go after this- so sad, but at least I'll make the deadline for the challenge! Woohoo! Anyways, like I said, I really enjoyed writing this one, and I absolutely adore this song. To me, it fits Jane and Lisbon perfectly! I've definitely been rocking out to it while driving to and from school today! Hahahahaha! And remember, we're back to the beginning with Jane :D Next chapter's the end with Lisbon...**

**Thanks to: TROMANA, YABA, ILOVEPLOTBUNNIES, WILDDAISIES, SIMONISTHECUTTESTMENTALIST, BOUTONDOR, EBONY, and FROGSTER. I really appreciate y'all taking the time to review, and thanks for making my day!**

**Chapter Five**

_"They say we laugh just a little too loud.  
We stand just a little too close.  
We stare just a little too long.  
Maybe they're seeing something we don't, darlin'  
Let's give 'em something to talk about."  
-_Bonnie Raitt, Something To Talk About

Patrick Jane whistled softly as he pushed open the main door to the CBI headquarters. The building was bustling with activity, and the sun was already high in the sky. Minelli had given them the morning off after the late night adventure with Dr. Carmen, and although he didn't sleep late, he enjoyed spending a lazy morning people watching at a local café. His fingers curled around the white paper bag containing several pastries. He was willing to bet Lisbon had arrived at her regular time and most likely had skipped breakfast. He knew she'd be eager to salvage her professional relationship, no matter what the cost to her personal health.

He smiled as he replayed the events from last night in his head. He honestly didn't know where the hug had come from, but there was something about Teresa Lisbon that made him want to change, to consider a life after Red John. Hell, to consider a life during Red John. She felt so warm and alive in his arms, and he marveled at his ability to feel anything at all. She had stiffened when his lips pressed against her hairline, and in hindsight, he was surprised she hadn't knocked him to the ground right then. Maybe there was something there- after all, he was certainly cheerful today. It was whistle worthy, and that was a whole new level of cheerfulness.

He waved a quick hello to the janitorial staff and other personnel as he made his way to the break room. He placed the bag in plain sight, just in case Rigsby wandered in, while he retrieved a clean mug from the cabinet. Filling it with water, he placed it in the microwave before continuing his patented tea making process. Digging through an assortment of herbal teas, he inhaled their spicy aromas, before deciding on a nice cinnamon-apple flavor. Bouncing on his feet, he poured the milk and let the tea bag steep. Leaning against the counter, he surveyed the rest of the room from the doorway when a pair of voices carried across the hall. He took a step back to conceal his position, and listened in. After all, it wasn't his fault they were talking loudly enough to carry into the break room. He was just making tea. It was completely innocent.

"Fifty bucks says she's already screwing him," a male voice boasted to the raucous laughter of his colleagues. Jane shook his head. He was amazed that people were still betting on Van Pelt and Rigsby. It was surprisingly obvious they hadn't acted on their feelings just yet. Apparently, the Neanderthals from Narcotics didn't recognize even the most basic body language.

"Man, I think your off-base, Hendricks," another man called out before being interrupted by several cat calls.

"Just because she never gave you the time of day, doesn't mean she's not getting it somewhere else, Jimmy!" The group dissolved into several softer comments that Jane couldn't quite pick up. He wondered if he should make his presence known. After all, it was very disrespectful to Grace. Taking a sip of his tea, he grabbed the paper bag and was about to leave, when the next comment stopped him in his tracks.

"I still can't believe Lisbon fell for it. Jane's one lucky bastard. Wish I had whatever he's got…" Several lewd comments followed that remark as Jane choked on his tea. Him and Lisbon? No way. Where in the world had they got that idea from? Sure, they spent a lot of time together, but nothing about their body language should suggest that they were sleeping together.

"Move it boys! You sound like a bunch of old ladies at a quilting bee."

"Oh, can it Martinez!"

The voices grew louder, and Jane positioned himself just inside the doorway as the Narcotics team entered the room for their lunch break. Jane was greeted with stunned silence and uncomfortable looks. He raised his eyebrow as if nothing was wrong, and offered a pleasant smile.

"Afternoon," he said as he headed out the door. A few responses were quietly returned as the other agents shifted uneasily. Turning, Jane flashed them a warning grin.

"Nice day for a conversation, isn't it?" he said as he headed down the hall.

Stifling his laughter, he shook his head and mentally logged the names and faces to the comments he had overheard. He'd make sure they knew not to insult the female agents of the Serious Crimes Unit. Entering the bullpen, he took a moment to comprehend what he had learned. It amused him that other agents were placing wagers against him and Lisbon. The thought was ridiculous. Anyone that knew Lisbon would know that she wasn't one to compromise her rules. She was already off-balance enough with the gossip surrounding her staged breakdown and Carmen's arrest. Although, if they were already talking…

"Hey, Lisbon!"

Might as well give them something to talk about.


	6. Chapter 6

**Ahhhhhhhh! I finished! *claps wildly* Okay, so this has been an incredibly fun and emotional story, and I've really enjoyed playing with the structure. Hopefully it wasn't too confusing, and now that it's complete we can read it starting with chapter 1 or starting from chapter 6 and going backwards! How entertaining! It's like a flip book…heh. Anyways, this echoes the first chapter, but obviously from Lisbon's perspective.**

**Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, story alerted, and favorite-ed this story! I really appreciate it, and thank you for taking the time to read it! Thanks to: TROMANA, LISBON69, LILSMILES, YABA, FROGSTER, EBONY10, SIMONISTHECUTTESTMENTALIST, and WILDDAISIES for reviewing the last chapter. Hugs for all of you!**

**Now, enjoy! (and grab a tissue!)**

Chapter 6

"_I will not make the same mistakes that you did.  
__I will not let myself cause my heart so much misery.  
__I will not break the way you did, you fell so hard.  
__I've learned the hard way to never let it get that far,  
__Because of you."  
_-Kelly Clarkson, Because of You

Tears blinded her vision as she haphazardly threw her favorite outfits into a suitcase. Muted blazers followed denim, until half of her closet was in a pile on the bed. Hauling open the heavy oak dresser drawers, she quickly scooped up her other garments and dumped them on top of her clothes. Shoving them into the suitcase, she was barely able to zip the overstuffed bag. It was all in disarray, much like her life, and she slammed the drawer fiercely, not wanted to look at the remaining men's items that were now alone. She cast a quick glance around their bedroom, grabbed her small jewelry box, and headed out the door. She paused, then reached for the small photograph on her nightstand and carefully tucked it in the front pocket of her travel bag.

Her hand caught on the pocket, snagged on the small ring on her left hand. Raising her hand, she studied the band. It had fit her personality perfectly. It wasn't flashy, and the inlaid stones were practical for the workplace. Yet, it had a subtle elegance that she adored. He had done well when he selected it. She never expected anything less. Twisting it around her finger, she closed her eyes and gently tugged. It slid off after a moment, and she eyed the golden ring. One thing was engraved along the inside of the band, and she chocked back a sob as she gently traced her finger over the word. _Always_. Clenching her fist around the ring, she deeply inhaled and set it gently on the dresser. Without another look, she left the room.

She swiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater as she practically bolted to the front door, and she wondered if it was like ripping off a band-aid. If she stormed out without a second thought, would it lessen the hurt? Would it be quick and painless? Her mouth was dry; her tongue felt like cotton. She could hear him calling after her, but his words faded in the background of her jumbled thoughts. She knew if she let him talk, she wouldn't be able to walk out. He had always been able to make her doubt her decisions. He could twist her thoughts and emotions until she didn't even know what she believed anymore. Her hand closed around the cool brass doorknob, and she froze. That moment of hesitation allowed her husband to catch up with her, and she felt his fingers lightly curl around her wrist.

"Teresa?" he asked, his voice strained.

She slowly turned around, forcing herself to look into his eyes. She owed him that, at least. He looked confused, unsure of the situation, and her heart clenched when she realized that this time there was no easy solution. She opened her mouth to apologize, but no words came.

"Why?" he whispered, raising a hand to cup her cheek. She pulled away, avoiding his touch. The touch she once welcomed, still welcomed. She could feel her body's betrayal.

"He's changed you," she said after a short pause. Her voice was raspy, and she stuttered over the simple words.

"Just give me another chance," he pleaded.

"It's always one more chance, Patrick. One more time. Tomorrow will be different," she softly replied. She pinched the bridge of her nose and clasped the suitcase tighter in her other hand. "What about today?"

He was silent. Her hand fell from his grasp. She shifted her weight uneasily, reaching for the door once more.

"I thought I could share you. I'd never ask you to give up on Red John, but I just can't live like this. He's dragging you down, and you're always ready to jump after him. I can't just blindly follow and hope I'll keep sprouting wings. I've lost too much of myself."

"I love you," he said as she pulled the door open. A blast of cool air shot inside the house, sweeping her hair around her.

"I'll always love you," she replied. "Just please let me go."

She stumbled down the steps and along the path. Fumbling for her keys, as she leaned against the door. Throwing her bag in the back, she slid into the seat trying not to think or even feel. Her eyes betrayed her, and she glanced back towards the house. He was illuminated in the front door. The glow of the lights basking him in an angelic glow as he watched her every move. She rubbed her ring finger, instantly missing the reassuring presence of the metal. Turning on the car, she flinched as the music blared out of the speakers. Damn love songs.

Throwing the car in drive, she stepped on the gas and practically flew out of the driveway. She gripped the steering wheel tighter, vacantly staring down the dark road ahead. She could feel a wave of emotion rising up, and she knew it wasn't too late. She could still go back. It wasn't too late to step on the gas, reverse, and throw her arms around him and apologize for her behavior. Her foot hovered near the brake.

No.

She couldn't do it. If she even thought about slowing down, she knew she'd turn around. She had to do this for her own sake. Increasing her speed, she flew around the corner, the glow of the porch light completely disappearing from view. She drove for several miles, before she broke down into sobs. Pulling over, she leaned her forehead on the steering wheel and cried.

Cried for her broken marriage. Cried for her own selfishness. Cried for Patrick Jane's unbeatable fight.

Her tears dissolved into hiccups, and she fought to get her breathing under control. Leaning her head against the headrest, she buckled her seatbelt, started the ignition, and drove on.

_The End._


End file.
